Look Ma! No talk about the election!
Nov. 3rd, 2004 08:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anigoI think the rest of the world has it nailed down pretty good. You don't need my two cents.
The teacher lived. We retreated to our neutral corners after we came to the mutual agreement that I was right and she was an idiot. Dick managed to get off a bit early, though it was for naught, as she spoke only to me. It was like being at a car dealership only in reverse. Can you FEEL the POWER, brothers and sisters!
Last night I had a neo-citran at about 9:00. I like neo-citran when you're feeling cruddy. Normally it makes me a little drowsy sometimes, but not often and not much. Last night I didn't know if I was going to make it from the chair to the bed without falling asleep and this morning I feel completely dopey. Ok, more dopey than usual. (I know you were thinking it)
Also this morning I got teenage attitude from The Kid. Her hot lunch money went in her book bag as opposed to her agenda and therefore didn't get submitted in time. That's fine, just means I have to make an extra sandwich, no biggie. But NOOOOOOOOO. Missy's upset. And not because she's going to miss Pizza, but because she says if you don't pass in a hot lunch order, you don't get a new one the following week. No, Jess, I have more. NOOOOOOOO I won't get one. No, honey, you don't understand, it's all good, really. (translation: if the teacher even remotely HINTS at trying such a thing, they will be pulling teacher pieces out of the woods around here for months) This is all followed by much eye rolling and stamping off.
Ok.
Now.
The Kid is seven, going to be eight in 2 weeks. I'm still bigger than she, and I plan on being that way for a bit yet.
Excuse me, can you come back here? (said with that authoritarian tone that scares the hell out of her. I wonder how long that will last.)
There is much pouting.
Was that eye rolling I saw?
No.
Are you sure?
Yes.
Ok, come into the kitchen with me...
Where I magically pull out a pile of these hot lunch order forms.
They're on the website and I've printed a bunch of them off.
At which time the kid is eternally sorry and smoochy and then goes off to school happily with a bologna sandwich.
So, Dick's on another overtime shift today. I'm going to pop into work this morning and pick up some stuff and then come back home for the afternoon. I've got a teleconference most of the afternoon anyway. The girl I drive to work is going in by herself since she can't come home early which will allow me much tunage in the car.
Aside from that, there's not much else to tell this morning.
Holy crap, is that the time? Jeeze! Gotta go brush the bagely goodness poppy seeds out of my teeth.
The teacher lived. We retreated to our neutral corners after we came to the mutual agreement that I was right and she was an idiot. Dick managed to get off a bit early, though it was for naught, as she spoke only to me. It was like being at a car dealership only in reverse. Can you FEEL the POWER, brothers and sisters!
Last night I had a neo-citran at about 9:00. I like neo-citran when you're feeling cruddy. Normally it makes me a little drowsy sometimes, but not often and not much. Last night I didn't know if I was going to make it from the chair to the bed without falling asleep and this morning I feel completely dopey. Ok, more dopey than usual. (I know you were thinking it)
Also this morning I got teenage attitude from The Kid. Her hot lunch money went in her book bag as opposed to her agenda and therefore didn't get submitted in time. That's fine, just means I have to make an extra sandwich, no biggie. But NOOOOOOOOO. Missy's upset. And not because she's going to miss Pizza, but because she says if you don't pass in a hot lunch order, you don't get a new one the following week. No, Jess, I have more. NOOOOOOOO I won't get one. No, honey, you don't understand, it's all good, really. (translation: if the teacher even remotely HINTS at trying such a thing, they will be pulling teacher pieces out of the woods around here for months) This is all followed by much eye rolling and stamping off.
Ok.
Now.
The Kid is seven, going to be eight in 2 weeks. I'm still bigger than she, and I plan on being that way for a bit yet.
Excuse me, can you come back here? (said with that authoritarian tone that scares the hell out of her. I wonder how long that will last.)
There is much pouting.
Was that eye rolling I saw?
No.
Are you sure?
Yes.
Ok, come into the kitchen with me...
Where I magically pull out a pile of these hot lunch order forms.
They're on the website and I've printed a bunch of them off.
At which time the kid is eternally sorry and smoochy and then goes off to school happily with a bologna sandwich.
So, Dick's on another overtime shift today. I'm going to pop into work this morning and pick up some stuff and then come back home for the afternoon. I've got a teleconference most of the afternoon anyway. The girl I drive to work is going in by herself since she can't come home early which will allow me much tunage in the car.
Aside from that, there's not much else to tell this morning.
Holy crap, is that the time? Jeeze! Gotta go brush the bagely goodness poppy seeds out of my teeth.